Bum Seat

"You have a hole in your pants!" These were the words uttered by one of my co-workers. I immediately reached for my butt to ascertain the legitimacy and extent of said hole. Sure enough a mere 1-1/4" from the crack of my butt was a hole that had no business being there.I was horrified, not by the prospect of spending the rest of the day walking around with a hole in my pants, but by the fact that I would eventually have to go home and tell my wife. She had just bought these pants. She had invested her time and energy to go shopping for them. I'm sure she paid a pretty penny for them. Yet after all those sacrifices, I manage after only a handful of wearings, to ruin them.

When I went to my bike that afternoon for the ride home, I realized the culprit for said hole. The lycra cover on the seat I was using had worn down and the underlying foam was exposed and flopping about.Underneath the foam, the plastic base of the seat was inundated with a sundry of sharp metal slivers.Obviously the foam peeled back and these metal slivers had an unabated access to my practically brand new pants.

My first order of business upon getting home and opening a cold beer. Replace bum seat!

Never Let Your Dog Out naked

When you commute to work, you see all kinds of unusual things, not to mention learn some of life's most important lessons.

This morning as I meandered though the neighborhoods on my way to work, I noticed a big black lab having a grand ole time running from yard to yard. His tail was wagging so furiously that it shook his whole body. He was too enthralled in sniffing around to take any notice of me. I've ridden this street hundreds of times over the years and this is the first time I ever saw this dog running free. Once I realized he wasn't going to make a sport of chasing me, I began to ponder where he came from? This nagging question was quickly answered, when 3 houses down, I saw a wet haired man tearing out his front door with nothing on but a towel. Where is my camera when I need it? I would love to have stuck around and seen how this scene played out, but I didn't want to be late, so I rode on. (Special Note: If it been the man's spouse running out the door with nothing on but a towel, I would have stopped to lend assistance, no matter how late that made me. I am a gentleman after all.)

Had I been roaring down the main traffic thoroughfare in a natural resource guzzling - sheet metal encased - internal combustion powered - environmental hazard, I would have missed this scene all together. The antics of a nearly naked man and his dog would have gone unnoticed. That would have been a shame.

The Lord Rideth With Me

This morning's commute was like the Lord had some extra time on His hands, so He decided to come along for a ride. The temps were mild (upper 40's). The skies were clear. The sun was rising. The wind was to my back. The traffic was next to nonexistent. All the traffic lights turned green as I approached.

I've often said, the second hardest part of a bike commute is arriving at your destination. For this morning's ride, that truth was especially poignant. I didn't want to stop, but two things caused me apply the brakes.

First - I am not financially independent. I need this job.

Second - I figured God had more pressing matters to attend to than ride with me all day long.

A Bit Less Drag If You Please

Have you ever been fishing, hooked and lost what you knew was a big one, because you had the drag set a bit too tight? That's what ran through my mind as I knelt beside the road and retied my shoe.

Normally, I'm pretty meticulous when I tie my shoes, particularly my riding shoes. I make sure that any extra shoelace is positioned to the side of my shoe opposite the cranks. Today though - the sun was shining - the thermometer registered 78 F and I was anxious to break the bonds of work and RIDE! As soon as the whistle blew, I slung off the steel toes, haphazardly threw on the riding shoes and I was out the door.

The first couple of miles were uneventful. It wasn't until I was riding through Huntington Park that the error of my ways manifested itself. I was midway up a small incline when I noticed an ever burgeoning tightness that grew on my left foot with each pedal stroke. Being the experienced commuter that I am, I immediately ascertained the precariousness of my plight. My shoe lace had become entangled with my pedal. The noose was tightening with each pedal stroke. On a free wheel bike, the exacerbation of this problem is easily remedied - STOP PEDALING! On a fixed gear bike - since the motion of the pedals is intricately and unequivocally entwined with the revolution of the wheels - extricating oneself from this troublesome scenario is infinitely more difficult.

If you want to stop the shoe lace from wrapping around the pedal - stop pedaling!

If you want to stop pedaling - stop the wheel from turning!!

If you want to stop the wheels from turning - stop the bike!!!

The tricky part is executing the aforementioned actions before:

A. The shoe string snaps in two or

B. The shoe string tears your shoes or

C. Your pedal motion and wheel locks up.

I grabbed both brakes for all I was worth and waited to see which option manifested itself. Lucky for me, I was going no more than 12 mph at a cadence of 50 rpm and was able to stop in time to preclude any escalation of problems. I slowly pushed the bike backwards, unwinding my shoe laces, all the time grateful I wasn't racing along at a cadence of 90 to 100 rpm. The results could have been disastrous.

I don't mean to wax philosophically, but when encountering a near death experience, one can't help but be a bit introspective (OK - maybe the "near death" thing is a bit of an exaggeration - but this is my blog so I ought to be granted a bit of literary license). So here goes: Life is full of little happenstances that teach us: right and wrong - good and evil - fulfillment and brokenness - valor and recklessness - prosperity and poverty. That which differentiates the wise from the foolish is not the nature of our experiences, but what we learn from them.

I retied my shoes tight and carefully tucked the laces inside, opposite from the cranks.

Mark my word - from this point forward - that's how I'll always tie them - no matter how inviting the weather is.

Oh yea - this experience gave me yet another idea for a Cycling Affair trait:

"You may be having a Cycling Affair - if you tuck your shoelaces inside your shoes."

My Kingdom for Fenders

After not riding the previous week, for reasons discussed in prior posts, I was back at it full swing this past week. In fact, I rode to work everyday. The temperatures were mild - the winds were manageable - the air was kinda dry. There was threat of rain for two days, but when I walked out the house on those mornings, it wasn't raining, so I rode.

On Thursday morning, it didn't rain on me, but there was evidence that it had rained pretty heavy the night before. The roads were soaked. I could see the water spraying up from my front wheel and imagined the rear wheel was following suit. I so wanted fenders at that moment. I imagined the water leaving a nice trail of wet, brown, grittiness up my backside. That ought to be a tricky one to explain to my co-workers. I loosened the strap on my messenger bag and lowered it in an effort to protect me from having to make such awkward explanations. It must have done the trick - cause no one commented on my backside all day.

Foghorn Anyone?

Foghorn - that's exactly what I needed this morning on my ride to work. When I got up this morning at 4:30, made a cup of coffee and logged into iGoogle, the weather alert flashed but one word "Fog". I scarcely gave it a fleeting thought until I walked out the house at 6:15 am. I looked around and the lights reflecting off a dense fog was eerie.

I wasn't a quarter mile from the house when I was forced to make my first stop. The fog was so thick and wet that it was like rain suspended in mid air. My riding glasses (clear lens) were covered with mist and I could scarcely make out where I was going. I stopped briefly, took them off and stuffed them in my pocket. I continued riding in the darkness and fog as the moisture collected on my clothes, beard, eyebrows and eyelashes.

I mentioned in a recent post that I liked riding in the dark because it made my world small. Riding the the dark, in the fog made my world next to minuscule. My 10 watt headlight, though fully charged , emitted but a miserable excuse for illumination. I was taking the short route to work - a route that I have ridden a thousand times if I've ridden it once. Yet this morning I got lost. I couldn't read the street signs, they were enveloped in fog and my light was overwhelmed just trying to illuminate a dim spot 10 feet in front of me. I turned left on what I thought was the same road I am accustomed to turning on, only to be met by surroundings that sounded not a shred of familiarity. I quickly realized that I had obviously turned too soon, so I improvised, adjusted my route and got back on track.

I continued on and eventually made it to the entrance of the shipyard's north yard parking lot. On all my previous commutes, at this point I am met by the blaring lights that illuminate a shipyard that never sleeps. Yet this morning, as I gazed into the direction of the yard, I was met with total darkness. Had the shipyard slipped into the James River? Was it experiencing a major power outage? Given the scene that met my eyes at that moment, one would never have imagined that I was barely a stones throw away from the biggest shipyard in the United States. I was surrounded by a darkness and fog so deep it could be felt. I was transported to my youth, growing up in rural Southwest Louisiana. Surrounded by swamps, fog was as much a part of life as sunrises. Of course, back then I had enough sense not to ride in the dark or the fog. So the sensation this morning was a new one all together.

I eventually made it to work without incident. I was cold and wet - but I felt good. The ride was spooky - disconcerting - risky - but it was exhilarating. I got lost - but discovered something new. I rode slower - but arrived too soon.

Rough Week for Riding

The title says it all. between starting the week out sick and ending the week with steady rain - I was only able to ride to work twice this past week. The good news - I still didn't take the truck - but rode the bus.

Unfortunately - the week ahead doesn't look to start out very promising. The forecast is calling for snow starting tonight through midday tomorrow. Not only will this threaten my commute for tomorrow, but it could impact it for at least the first half of the week. You see - living in Southeast VA, we don't get much snow; Therefore, the city doesn't have the equipment, nor any particular inclination to clear the roads (especially the backstreets that I traverse). We basically have to wait for the snow to melt in its own sweet time. With the temps forcasted to stay below freezing until Wednesday - this could take a while.

$&#@!* CARS!!!!!

One day this week, I was running late, so decided to take the short route to work. It certainly gets me there quicker, with only one problem to contend with - the traffic. Hence the principal reason I normally choose to ride a route that is nearly twice as long.

Everything was going OK until I merged onto Warwick Blvd, the main thoroughfare to and from the shipyard. At the time of morning I'm riding, Warwick is bumper to bumper with shipbuilders in their gas guzzlers, rushing to find a parking place. I take the back streets for the lion's share of the route - unfortunately there is a quarter mile segment of this route where getting on Warwick is inevitable.

This particular segment has a shoulder that's lined with parallel parked cars. To keep from getting doored, I am forced to ride further in the right traffic lane. I'm sure this annoys drivers who think they own the road and no one else has a right to be on it. As I was tooling along, I glanced in my mirror and noticed headlight just behind. Due to traffic in the other lane, the driver was forced to slow down and ride behind me for a full 2 seconds. The large SUV then pulled alongside me and just as I was adjacent to it's rear wheel, I noticed the front right turn signal blinking. I instinctively grabbed the brakes just as the SUV made an abrupt right hand turn in front of me. "What the H E double hockey sticks...unbelievable...you idiotic blankity blank...you inconsiderate so and so..."

I considered following the SUV into the parking lot and confronting the driver - yet I've been riding long enough and cut off so many times that I knew exactly how the encounter would go. We would exchange un-pleasantries - the driver would have no remorse and stand firmly on the principle that "bikes have no business on the road in the first place".

I gave a wave of displeasure and rode on, shaking my head in dismay, taking deep breathes to calm myself. I realize that drivers are not attuned to look for cyclist.

• I accept the fact that cars will pull in front me - simply because they didn't see me, despite the fact that I wear bright reflective clothing and my bike blinks like a Christmas tree.
• I accept the fact that drivers will get right behind me and honk - startling the heck out of me.
• I accept the fact that drivers will zoom by and occasionally yell at me to get off the road.
• I accept the fact that drivers will make obscene gestures at me for taking up space in their world.
• I accept the fact that drivers will occasionally throw things at me - actually that's not true - I don't accept having things thrown at me - but it happens all the same.
• I accept the fact that girls will pass by me, scream and giggle in ecstasy at my rock solid, lycra clad body - actually that never happens - but if it ever does happen I can accept it.

However, when someone pulls up beside me, knows I'm there and turns into me - a move that could well have squashed me like a bug had I not taken evasive maneuvers - well that's a pretty hard thing to brook.

So why do I tell this story? Well for two reasons really. First - I guess I just need a place to vent. Secondly - I hope that it serves as an important lesson to my readers. That lesson is that the number one thing to remember when riding a bike is "RIDE DEFENSIVELY".

• When you're approaching a side street where a car is waiting - assume it will pull out in front of you.
• When a car comes around you from behind - assume it will turn right in front of you.
• When a car is backing out it's driveway - assume it will back out in front of you.
• When a car is facing you and making a left hand turn - assume it will turn left in front of you.

You will find yourself slowing down more than you need to - but trust me - one day - one of the aforementioned assumptions will be come a reality - and you'll be glad your hand was on the brake.

I lost My Bell Today

Tonight as I rode across the small foot bridge that spanned the canal in Huntington Park - something seemed out of sorts. I don't know if it was some physical sign that alerted me or something deeper, more esoteric - but I knew something was missing. I instinctively reached down and grabbed my stem and immediately ascertained the significance of my loss. My bell was gone. Oh - the base was there, but somehow the nut that held the bell in place had worked loose and fallen away and the bell had followed suit. Earlier as I unlocked my bike, I hung the cable on my handlebars instead of tucking it away in my messenger bag. The cable must have rubbed against the bell and worked it loose.

It wasn't a huge economic loss. I couldn't have paid more than $5 for the thing nigh on 20 years ago. However - it was nigh on 20 years ago. 20 years of riding to and from work. 20 years of dinging. 20 years of sending forth its cheerful tone to strangers, friends, fellow cyclist, pedestrians, squirrels, cats, rabbits, dogs and Lord knows who and what else. Sometimes I would ding out a familiar tune or two. Sometimes I would just give it a ding just to let it know I was there. Sometimes I would just give it a ding to make sure it was there.

If it be true that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wing, then that bell hath filled the heavenlies with flight. I've heard that bell ring so much through the years that there is no doubt that were I to hear it among a multitude of bells, it would be but a moment before I sifted through the cacophony of dings and embraced it.

As I brought my bike to a stop and pondered my loss, there was no doubt as to my next course of action. It did not matter if I were caught in a torrential downpour - I was going back for that bell. It did not matter if a blizzard threatened to engulf me - I was going back for that bell. It did not matter if a tornado bore down upon me - I was going back for that bell. It did not matter if the footbridge was lined with flesh eating zombies - I was going back for that bell.

I slid the light off my handlebars and slowly walked back to the bridge. As I swept the light back forth, words are woefully inadequate to describe my elation as the beam reflected the metallic blue gleam of my bell. I rushed toward it in the dark and cradled it in my tender hand. I continued to slowly traverse the bridge and what to my wondering eyes did I behold but the very nut that for nigh on 20 years held my bell in place. I placed my beloved treasures in my pocket and made my way back to my bike.

Immediately upon arriving home, I put my bike in the repair stand, took a beer from the frig and reattached the bell. Satisfied with my handiwork, I exited the garage. As I turned off the light and just before I closed the door - I heard it. It was a familiar ding that I thought I would never hear again. The garage was dark and empty. There was no one present to flick the hammer and ring the bell. Yet it's unmistakable ding still echoed faintly in the dark. I can't explain it - I don't even care to. All I know is - my bell was lost and now it was found!!

Weather Forecast

I have a very effective method for determining if the weather for any given day will be suitable for commuting to work. When I am ready to leave for work - I go outside and check the weather:

• If it is raining, I do not take the bike to work!
• If it is not raining, I take the bike to work.

This method has been serving me pretty well over the years. I've only gotten caught in inclement weather a handful of times.

I used to use more sophisticated means like actually checking the weather forecast. However I found myself missing out on perfectly suitable days for riding. I would check the forecast - It was calling for rain - I would skip the bike - A drop of rain never fell - I felt bad for not riding. I can't count how many times that scenario played itself out.

Last week was a perfect example. The forecast called for winter storm warnings for at least 2 days. Had I heeded these forecast - I would have skipped riding on those days. As it turns out - I was able to ride all 5 days last week. Mind you - it was cold (most days in the 20's) - but it was dry. First of February - I guess I can't ask for anything better than that.

Frigid Commute

I got up yesterday morning and the frigid temps that had been gripping the rest of the country all week, were now reaching out and touching Southeast VA. It was 17 F and I was seriously considering warming up the truck. Then I remembered a post I read on Commute By Bike highlighting an article in US News and World Report featuring Megan Mason, a bike commuter in Chicago. Megan's commute was summarized as follows:

"On a freezing november morning in Chicago, Megan Mason puts on leggings, several polyester tops and a fleece, a windbreaker, four pairs of gloves, and silk sock liners. She ties a bandana over her head, dons earmuffs, snaps on a helmet, safety-pins a scarf into a cocoon around her head, and gets on her bright green Schwinn for a 6½-mile ride to work."

I figured, if Megan can brave the cold in Chicago, then surely I can in VA. With my new found inspiration I began to dress for success: 2 pair of socks - tights - jeans - t-shirt - button up shirt - long sleeve jersey - wind proof fleece jacket - mittens - balaclava - helmet.

Just before I went out the door, I remembered reading somewhere that vaseline helps to protect the face from the ravaging affects of wind and cold. I searched high and low but couldn't find any in the house. However - I did find a stick of Body Glide, an anti-chafe balm used by athletes. I read on the container that it also "helps protect from drying effects of wind and cold weather". I commenced to smear the balm all over my face. It was at this point that I wondered if my son (an avid runner) had previously used this stick to apply the magical anti-chaffing balm to more strategic locations on his body? There are some questions better left unanswered!!

I rode to work in relative comfort, especially after my appendages froze. Of course upon defrosting, they muttered in protest at their ill treatment. At work, I had to endure my co-workers unsolicited characterization of my state of mind for riding on such a day. The most common ones being - Insane - Crazy - Nuts - Idiot...

Once I got home last evening, with a cold beer in hand, I pondered the days ride with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I learned two valuable things:

1. Don't spread "Body Glide" on my face, unless I was the one who broke the seal.

2. I don't ever want to meet Megan in a dark alley.

Hockey Cyclist

On my ride home today, there was a little bit of daylight left and I had time to burn, so I took the long way home. I noticed a rider pull out ahead of me from a side street. He caught my attention because he was dressed in an unusual attire. He was wearing bike shorts, but had what looked like huge tube socks that went up his entire legs and were tucked underneath his cycling shorts. He was also wearing this humongous hockey jersey and a beanie cap. He literally looked like he had just stepped off the ice. This is an attire you don't see everyday. But it wasn't the first time I had seen it. Over the years, I've crossed paths with this guy numerous times. Up to this point we were always heading in the opposite direction. He is always dressed the same.

I caught up with him and said "hi" as I passed. He returned the greeting. I pulled ahead and as I did so, I began to think about how unusual this guy looked. Mind you, when I don my commuting cycling attire - complete with helmet, mirror, glasses, gloves, florescent orange vest, messenger bag and clips on my pant legs - I'm a bit of a dork. This guy however - well he took dork to a whole new level. I figure anyone who dresses like a hockey player and rides his bike must have a story to tell, so I slowed down.

We rode together for only a couple miles. I learned that he was in his mid 50's, lived in an RV park, had been commuting for 18 years, was a born again Christian and yea, he loved hockey. He ordered his hockey/riding gear from a company out of Canada. He indicated that he realized he looked like a clown, but the hockey jersey was actually very effective in keeping him warm. I told him that he looked fine (a lie). I also told him that I thought it was pretty cool (another lie). I went on to say that every time I saw him, it brought a smile to my face (that part wasn't a lie).

We finally reached the point where our paths diverged. We parted with a mutual God Bless! This brief encounter highlights two lessons:

Lesson # 1: Hockey gear makes for functional winter cycling attire, even though you will look like a clown. Note: This lesson I have no intention of taking to heart as it will most certainly have negative implications on my chick magnet allure.

Lesson #2: When you pass another cyclist, slow down and get to know them.

Warning - Black Ice

Warning - Black Ice. Those were the first words that greeted me as I woke up this morning, poured my first cup of coffee and booted up the computer. Great - something new to dodge on my commute to work.

Turns out I made it to work safely, but not before dodging half a dozen patches of - wheels slip out from under you - bust your fanny - before you can say "ah sugar"- patches of slick blackness. The patches weren't all that large - a car would have zipped across them without even noticing their existence; However - on a bicycle - with 25C wheels - pumped to 100 psi - well that's a different story all together.

Bike commuting - riding in the dark - dodging cars, pot holes, dogs, debris and now black ice - you gotta love it.

Fixed Gears Can't Bunny Hop

One of my New Year's Resolutions involved combining cycling and public transportation to limit driving my truck to work. The score so far:

Bike - 2
Bus - 0
Truck - 2
Road - 1

Road - 1???? What's that about? Well - I'm glad you asked.

Yesterday morning I was happy to be riding after the torrential downpours of the previous 2 days. I even took the longer route to work to get in some extra miles. It's been quite a while since I took that route. There was a new addition to the route - a pot hole - that I didn't see until it was too late. Mind you - this was no ordinary pot hole - it was big and deep. In the split second I had to register this impending doom - I came to the realization that if my front tire went in that hole - I was gonna tear something up.

Now I've been commuting to work for the better part of 15 years. I've had my fair share of run ins with pot holes. I instinctively pulled up on the front wheel and pedals so as to bunny hop the pot hole. I was semi-successful in that endeavor but overlooked one minor detail. I was riding my fixed gear bike. As I tried to execute a text book bunny hop, my feet kept going round and round. This caused the bike lean too much toward the right. When the wheels finally hit the pavement, they were far from perpendicular with the ground causing them to slide out from under me. I didn't even have time to say "ah sugar".

I went down hard on my right side. I have always worn my normal street clothes while commuting. The right leg of my dockers were shredded. My head hit the ground hard enough to put a dent in the side of my helmet. (I DON"T KNOW WHY ANYONE RIDES WITHOUT A HELMET) Luckily the only physical injury I suffered was a bruise and road rash on my right hip. The bike suffered no ill effects.

The year is off to a bang of a start. It's 30 degrees out right now and no rain. Hopefully the score by the end of the day will be:
Bike - 3
Bus - 0
Truck - 2
Road - 1 (Wish me luck:-)